permanent disequilibrium
by vanilluxe
Summary: They're jumping in without seeing how deep the water is. Ikarishipping ;; Twinleafshipping


**Title: **permanent disequilibrium  
**Fandom: **Pokemon  
**Pairings: **Paul/Dawn (Ikarishipping) ;; Barry/Dawn (Twinleafshipping)  
**Prompt: **N/A  
**Word Count: **3,557  
**Summary: **It starts with doubt and ends with everything but.  
**A/N: **Lawd Jeezus, what possessed me to write Deep And Meaningful Ikarishipping? I'm not too happy with this piece, but whatever. I wrote it between the hours of 3:00 AM – 8:00 AM. xP

* * *

**i.**

It begins with doubt.

Dawn's life goes so quickly, too fast for her mind to keep up and confront the unnerving amounts of doubt she habitually internalizes. The quiet times – often, too often at night – simultaneously bring her fear and relief. Her mind is too dark a place to navigate, so she'll briefly acknowledge that no, not everything is okay and be done with it.

And it's the same every night; she'll slip out of her sleeping bag, quietly leaving everyone behind, before dashing among the trees and into a clearing. She'll sit down, watch the moon and the stars and ask them questions that they'll never answer – out of prejudice for youthful folly or disappointment in her personally, she'll never know.

She's pleasantly surprised this night; there's a stream (probably connecting to the ocean – they aren't too far from Sunyshore, are they?), gently splashing over the rocks and shining in the moonlight. She sits down, taking off her boots and hanging her bare feet over the edge, allowing the cold water to nip at her toes. She wants to lose herself for a minute – _she envies everything that isn't her _– and she almost forgets the doubt before hearing the soft rustling of branches behind her. She goes rigid for a moment; she's dearly hoping that it's just a Starly or Bidoof. She doesn't know what she'd do if Ash or Brock found her here.

"What are you doing here, stupid girl? Admiring your reflection?"

She almost sighs in relief before remembering that it's _Paul_. She chastises herself for actually being all right with that.

"That's none of your business," Dawn shoots back, folding her arms across her chest, not gracing him by turning her head.

She hears his footsteps as he sits next to her.

She doesn't yield.

They sit in awkward silence (whywhywhy does he have to be here) before she asks, "What are you thinking about?"

"That's none of your business." She doesn't have to look at him to know that he's smirking.

She huffs, moving a few inches away from him. She refuses to reveal anything intimate to him, and admitting the subjects of her thoughts would be making her vulnerable to his incessant taunting.

"I'm just thinking. What else would I be doing here?"

She hazards a look at him out of the corner of her eye; he does the same, rising an eyebrow skeptically, almost as if it say, '_You? Thinking? Don't make me laugh.'_

Dawn doesn't say anything. She can't bring herself to.

The awkward silence continues as thoughts pass through her head – _where is he? why did he leave? was it Mom? was it me? _– until she finally blurts out, "Dad."

Any curiosity in regards to her father growing up was promptly squashed by her mother. It was just an unspoken rule that eventually became so elementary that Dawn hardly ever gave her father a passing thought. Since starting this journey of hers, the possibilities of what her father might be doing have suddenly become clear to her. Is he traveling through Kanto? Johto? Hoenn? Is he a Gym Leader somewhere far away? Is he part of the Elite Four? Is he a better trainer than even Cynthia?

Is he someone to be proud of?

"I guess it doesn't even matter if I don't know who he is," she mumbles to herself, ignoring Paul's presence before a moment before hugging her knees to her chest.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing _you'd _want to listen to, Your Rudeness."

He doesn't say anything and she can't resist the urge to throw another insult his way – she's on the dangerous brink of launching into an interminable confession to someone she doesn't even care about.

"Are you so tired that you can't think of something to say?"

"Haven't you ever heard that silence means agreement?"

"Huh?"

"I _don't_ want to listen to whatever you have to say."

"Good, because I definitely wouldn't tell you anyway."

They're at odds for the time being, but it could be worse, she thinks, so she appreciates the more comfortable silence. She plays with her bracelet, two small pieces of a Dawn Stone around a black wristband that her mother claims is the only gift her father gave her before leaving. Why did he even give it to her? Did he want her to be tortured by the whys and hows that the inevitable realization would bring about? She's at a loss as to what his reasoning could possibly have been, but that also begs the question: why does she keep it? That's a mistake on her part, she supposes, but…it really is the only thing she has left to remember him by. It keeps her hope burning, allowing her to believe that someday she'll run into him and he'll be proud of her for her accomplishments.

Dawn groans. She shouldn't have to do anything spectacular to earn her father's approval, but she's erring on the side of caution. How desperate is she, anyway?

She imagines that she'll likely take this bracelet and throw it into the sea, off a mountain, wherever – but that will be the day where she finally lets go of this irrational dream, and that day isn't in the foreseeable future.

The silence becomes unsettling again, and starkly stares at the water before asking, "You have a motive for being a trainer, right? Does – does that motive matter in the end?"

He looks thoughtful for a minute – _(almost peaceful); _it's a rare sight, and somewhat disconcerting one at that. "Why is that any of your concern, stupid girl?"

She's not amused by the epithet, but it doesn't matter. She doesn't want to give herself away, but there really isn't a choice if she wants an honest answer.

"Like, if I decide to become a trainer because I want to find my dad, would everything go to waste if I end up not finding him? Or if I become a trainer to impress him, and he's not impressed anyway?" she explains, her voice coming out much shakier than she would have liked.

He looks surprised, and she can't say she blames him; this is uncharacteristic of her, and she can feel it. She doesn't even feel right in her own body right now.

"That would be an idiotic reason to be a trainer."

"You obviously don't know what it's like to not have a father."

"As a matter of fact, I do. Don't make assumptions."

Her mouth goes dry for a moment and she almost doesn't believe her ears. She's torn between remorse and almost…contentment? It's good to know that someone is going to know where she's coming from.

"I…I guess that makes two of us."

How do two people grow up in such circumstances and turn out completely different? Has he always bore a grudge, whereas she's only become recently invested in thoughts of her father's life? She's curious, but she doesn't dare inquire about it. She's not that obnoxious, really.

Dawn observes him out of the corner of her eye, noting that his expression has changed. She wouldn't venture to say that it's softer, but it's definitely not as agitated as it was before. She almost feels sorry for him. Almost.

The silence doesn't suffocate them; it's all they have now, and they do nothing more than sit there. There are no more words spoken, no looks exchanged, and neither of them believe that anything has been born from this night. Any door showing a possibility has been promptly shut out of fear, and no matter how much they try to deny it, something will happen.

It ends with certainty in the eyes of Fate, but even more doubt in the both of them.

**ii.**

They don't speak until they're all at the Sinnoh League.

They're in the lobby, and the tension is thicker than any other league he's been in (and considering the bloodthirstiness of Ever Grande, that's testifying to something).

He's as confident as he'll ever be, but the fact that she'll be there watching gives him a sense of unease that he doesn't want to deal with.

He didn't think much of that night at first, but it gradually began to weigh on his mind until he (grudgingly) accepted that it had some significance. If anything, it made him – rather, forced him to accept the fact that she wasn't the sheltered, spoiled child he thought she was.

She was in pain, pain that even she couldn't conceal. Did she even want to bother concealing it in the dead of night – and in front of him, no less? He knows that he's not the person to open up to, and maybe his presence is overbearing to someone like her, but –

(excuses don't matter).

The breeder and the idiot are doing something or other, but she's separated from them, looking what seems like a cross between irritated and worried.

She's waiting for someone.

It shouldn't bother him as much as it does – isn't his appreciation of solitude more than companionship part of his whole reputation? – but it feels strange. It's almost as though they should be tossing insults at each other, and the fact that they aren't is upsetting some natural balance and throwing everything off in the process.

He turns away and shoves his hands in his pockets. It's no different from any other day.

"Hey, Paul!"

He almost mistakes the voice for the idiot's and has a scathing remark already prepared before it registers that it's her voice. _(Diana? Donna? Dawn? Dawn, that's it.)_

He looks over his shoulder to see her smiling, her arms behind her back.

"What do you want?"

She falters for a moment before nervously saying, "I probably shouldn't say this, but, uh, good luck?"

He gives her the most disturbed look he has ever been forced to give in his short lifetime.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, you're going to need it. I'll be surprised if you even get to Cynthia."

He raises his eyebrows, not just because of her response but because of the person who is apparently about to tackle her from behind.

"Boo!" said person yells into her ear, covering her eyes.

"H-Hey! Stop it!" she yelps, prying his hands away from her eyes and giving him a severe glare. "Don't scare me like that, Barry."

"But you're so – Paul?"

"What? Yes, this is Paul."

"How do you know him?! Why would he be wasting his time with a coordinator?"

He doesn't know who this guy is, but he looks somewhat familiar, and his name faintly reminds him of something he can't quite place. It doesn't matter; he's less focused on trying to remember who the other boy is than hearing them bicker like a couple.

_Like a couple_. He's surprised that he's even capable of making such a comparison.

Dawn is promptly shoved aside while Barry gushes on and on about how I'm your biggest fan and you must teach me your ways and things that Paul just wants to tune out. It's somewhat difficult when they're about an inch away from each other.

He looks to her, and she shrugs her shoulders and rolls her eyes. _'Just nod and pretend you care,' _she mouths.

He can do that. It's what he's been doing this entire time, after all.

**iii.**

They don't see each other for several years.

It isn't until long after they've stumbled into the awkward phase of life known as adolescence that they spot each other in Hoenn after several minutes of asking themselves_, 'Is it them? No, it can't be. Wait, it is.'_

It's in the Ever Grande Conference's lobby that she sees him, and he's unmistakable; the perpetual scowl, tanned face, hands-in-pockets thing he thinks he can pull off but can't. She's getting the weirdest sense of déjà vu, but she brushes it aside and runs up to him from behind, yanking on his ponytail and grinning like an idiot –

(she doesn't care, she doesn't think about why she's so happy to see such a bitter remnant of her past).

He probably won't recognize her with the way she's changed. A zipped black jacket with a pink skirt (longer this time) and white leggings – along with a hairstyle change – have changed her appearance in ways she didn't think would suit her.

And somehow, they do. The less conspicuous way she dresses reflects on _something_, she figures.

The shift from coordinator to trainer wasn't sudden; it took long into the Johto contest scene for her to realize that giving something else a try wouldn't be so bad.

She hasn't looked back.

"Hey stranger!" she says. "Remember me?"

He turns around and gives her a disgusted look. "No. Who are you?"

"Dawn! Remember, the annoying girl who likes pink?"

_There it is,_ she thinks when she sees the light of recognition in his eyes. She's matured in the past few years – she's a bit more grounded, wiser, the typical – but she's still Dawn.

He looks faintly amused – the small, condescending upturn of his lips and folding of his arms give it away – but the grim tone of voice doesn't change.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, almost in the way an adult would talk to a child.

She frowns and plants her hands on her hips. "_Excuse_ me, Your Highness, but I'm in the Ever Grande Conference too!"

"Stop deluding yourself, stupid girl. _Why are you really here?"_

_Has he learned nothing in the past six years? What happened to the whole maturity deal? _she thinks, pursing her lips. She unzips her jacket and reaches into its pocket, pulling out a case with her Hoenn badges. She smirks and flips it open, revealing all eight badges required to enter the conference.

The look on his face is priceless; she can't remember ever seeing him so surprised. Closing the case, she feels a surge of smugness and has the urge to flaunt the fact that she's just as good as he is at this point.

She flops onto the sofa he's sitting on and crosses her legs, rocking back and forth. The smile fades as she thinks of the things she's done to get to this point – but more important than that is the reason why.

She still hasn't found her father.

Even after the honest conversation with her mother in regards to him, she doesn't have a lead. No one across the three regions seemed to know who he was. Will everything really be for nothing?

"Hey, stupid girl. What happened to all that smugness crap a few minutes ago?" he asks harshly, glare unwavering.

"I was _thinking_."

"Where have I heard that excuse before?" he mumbles.

They both lose in the final rounds, but he's much calmer about the affair than she is.

"I can't believe it! I was so close, too! If I had only used Camerupt instead of Swampe – "

He clamps a hand over her mouth as they walk back to the Pokemon Center.

"Whining about it doesn't change anything. You made a stupid mistake. It's going to happen, you know."

She can't help but think she was wrong when she thought he hadn't matured.

**iv.**

They go back to Sinnoh together, almost missing the evening ferry due to a scheduling typo.

They're apart for most of the time until he sees her leaning over the side of the ferry, looking at the sky with an unnatural somberness. When he joins her, it's almost as if they're ten years old again in that same situation.

He figures that it's time to return the courtesy done to him many years ago – "What are you thinking about?" – despite the fact that he never did answer her.

"Huh? Nothing much."

"You're a horrible liar, Dawn."

Her eyes widen in surprise and her cheeks flush slightly, but she laughs and looks back to the sky.

"So I've graduated to 'Dawn' now?"

There's no significance to that, and he wants to tell her so. He's had no problem with lying before, so why is it stopping him now? Even after six years, he's still a fucking failure at relationships of any kind. People point fingers, accuse him of having a superiority complex, and abandon him. It's a cycle; people are generally clued in a few (minutes/hours) after meeting him. He's convinced that being alone is the only thing he's meant for.

"Whatever _you _want to believe," he says, and against his better judgment, he reaches over and pulls out her ponytail holder, letting her azure hair fall down past her shoulders, causing her blush to intensify.

"Are you making fun of me? I get enough of that from Barry." She smiles dreamily and closes her eyes, and he knows.

He knows and feels incredibly stupid.

"That guy is Palmer's son, isn't he?"

She nods. "I'm kind of glad they don't see each other often. It's either their sanity or mine in those situations."

"So you two – you're – "

"Yep. Have been for years. How about you?"

He says nothing and her face softens.

An awkward silence suspends itself between them for what seems like hours before she breaks it.

"Palmer was friends with my dad," she says softly, almost inaudibly. "When I asked him if he knew where he might be, he didn't have a clue. He just said that my dad wanted to see everything there was to see, and that's why he left. This is really all I have of him."

She rolls up her sleeve, exposing the same bracelet that she wore six years ago.

"They're pieces of a Dawn Stone." Her eyes narrow, and he can see the tears stinging at their corners. "I've wanted to get rid of this for the longest time, but I feel like if I do, I'll lose every chance I have of finding him."

He can't find the words to say; a single word could ruin everything. It's completely idiotic, but he can't bear the thought of making her more depressed than she already is.

"That's the whole reason I became a trainer. I figured it would be easier to find him that way. But…nothing so far." She closes her eyes briefly before turning her head to look at him. "But that's my sad, emotional monologue for the evening. Remember that time when we were by Sunyshore a few years ago? It's these kinds of things that were weighing on my mind back then."

And he didn't listen. He deterred her from seriously talking about it, even to open air. He would apologize, but it wouldn't do any good now.

"I gave up on both parents a long time ago," he tells her, knowing that this isn't going to end well. "Reggie wouldn't tell me what happened to them, if something happened at all, so I just figured that they didn't care about us. So I didn't care about them."

She looks confused, almost hurt, and he can tell that he's said something wrong.

"You never wanted to know who your parents were?"

"Not really."

"Ah."

Dawn inhales shakily, and moves a little closer to him.

"Please don't be angry," she says hastily.

She leans forward and kisses him –

_(well, not so much a kiss as the brushing of lips against lips)_

before pulling away, face reddening and horrified.

She begins to spout apologies and oh Arceus why did she do that, but the feeling of her lips against his lingers, and he doesn't know why – he can't even begin to explain what he's feeling – but he wants to feel it again. If this is going to show him something, it had better be pretty fucking important.

He leans down and presses his lips against hers, not knowing or particularly caring if he's messing up or doing it right or whatever. She doesn't seem to care either because she's easing into it.

She looks like she's going to cry _(no doubt because of that other guy)_, and she offers a hushed "sorry" before leaving. He doesn't go after her, knows that it's going to result in tears and screaming.

He can't particularly decipher why she chose to kiss him so arbitrarily _(really, weren't they in the middle of talking about something completely different?)_, but it's definitely shown him something.

He's more alone now than he was before.

**v.**

He doesn't see her for another five years.

It's when he sees people moving into the empty house across from his in Veilstone, and they're awfully familiar. One's blonde with amber eyes and the other has midnight colored hair with similar eyes. They're holding hands, but bickering at the same time. He suddenly says something that makes her smile, and everything is okay again. He doesn't see the bracelet anywhere on her.

And he's alone.

He doesn't torture himself with the could-have-beens; Fate does that for him.

Still, he hopes that she at least found her father. Let her be happy if he can't be.

She's the one who made all the right mistakes, after all.


End file.
